Hospitality in the Hills

Despite our hiatus from the blog, we are safe in sound in Raymond, WA, about 60 north of the Washington/Oregon border.
After surviving Monday evenings' generous serving of gale force winds, dark winding roads, and stinging rain, we settled into Larrabee state park, scoring not only a shelter for the evening, but peeling out early enough to avoid the entrance fee (not that we (cough) um, condone that sort of stuff.
Setting out the next morning on a beautiful ride along Chuckanut drive, we quickly found our energy drained fighting whipping headwinds as we passed through the fields and hills near Anacortes, WA. After crossing the tretchorous deception pass which is probably about 600 feet off the water, we hid from low flying fighter jets and ate/entertained ourselves with roadside apples before jumping ship (ferry) for Port Townsend. The funniest Grandma you'll ever meet told us how the only thing less reliable than the ferry was her grandson as well as a good place to grab some pizza. With steaming slices in hand, 4 educated men sat around a table, sober, and watched the presidential debate. Needless to say, this did not heed the attention of a single women in the town. With the options for camping for the night being either the city park with the bums, or a desolate, closed-f0r-the-season park a few miles down the road, we chose option B. After riding a mile down a desolate road, and turning off all lights and walking into the Fort Townsend State Park, we were interest to find that 5 minutes after we arrived, a random park ranger decided that a Tuesday night in October at 10pm was a great time to check a campground with a spotlight for non-paying campers. Needless to say, he did not shackle us and "encouraged" us to pay the fee. We're convinced he was tipped off by the local pizza guy, but we're not the type of guys to point fingers.
Wednesday, after waking up, we smartly determined that following maps was for Sallys and headed off the itinerary toward Potlatch. Heading deep into the forests, we stopped for a lunch break in a little log cabin style cafe, the entertaining waitress delayed us about two hours before heading on the not so mountainous route along the coast just on the edge of the Olympic National Park. After a quick stop to test out rock throwing aim at side street fender and grabbing some grub at a local mini mart we headed to our Potlatch campsite in near total darkness of a starless night. Brewing our Ramen, Kidney Bean and Macaroni concoctions we bedded early for a long next days ride.
Our most recent adventures took us on an almost 80 mile ride cutting toward the coast and through acres of clear cutting. Near dog attacks, rushing logging trucks, and patches of rain clouds were no deterrent to our final destinition of Raymond. As the sun was setting the police, fireman and even librarians offered no help for a place to camp, we turned to Jon Q Public to hear our plee, one offer after another poured in but we went with the best, dinner consisting of Elk Gravy, Potatos and Apple Sauce; warm showers and yes internet, just two miles away; plus who can resist friendly company after a long hard day on the road. Thanks Gordon and Jenine Saul for your great hospitality, excellent food and letting four, not so fresh smelling boys, take over the house for an evening.